


In the Temple of the Rising Moon, I Dreamed of Another World

by Dryad



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Porn, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 07:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10692762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: "It can be disturbing. I had strange dreams for a long time, afterward. I still do, sometimes."





	In the Temple of the Rising Moon, I Dreamed of Another World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subjunctive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy, subjunctive!

Rafi stood back to admire the mounds of flowers and greenery laying on the ground. His armload of sunny yellow spring stars contrasted so prettily against the dark green boughs of bay leaves, the loops and coils of palm vine, each smooth leaf wider than his entire hand. Someone had gathered a few baskets of pink water lily, though it was a bit early for them to bloom. On the other hand, their beauty was promised for later in the week, when everyone would need the pick-me-up after recovering from their hangovers. On the bench to his left were baskets of food, from red fleshed peaches and dried figs from Eras, bowls of nuts spiced sweet and salty, the last of winter's crunchy and mildly sweet snowberries. Small bamboo boxes held freshly cut rosemary, early oregano, bundles of lavender, packets of sage. On the ground were trays of mosses tall and short, to refresh the soft carpet of the same in the temple. The mild breeze shifted and brought with it the odor of meat from the ground pit where it was cooking. He had eaten a hearty breakfast, but the day was moving as slowly as possible, and he wanted more food _now_. Waiting was annoying, and he was half tempted to break into the stores and grab a handful of this or that, just to slake his hunger until sunset. 

"Hey, Rafiq."

"Hello," he said, stepping back to give Mother Rahel room in which to settle her sling of sweetgrass.

Once it was on the ground she sighed, put her hands on her hips and stretched this way and that, rolled her head on her shoulders. She was hardly an old woman, but he could still hear joints pop as they settled back into place.

"Are you ready for tonight?"

"Yes, mother. I want dinner to be ready already!"

She chuckled, tucked a few strands of dark hair underneath her green scarf. "Kriya tells me you've been very helpful this afternoon."

He shrugged. "Nothing that didn't need doing."

"Hmm," she hummed back. "Well, then you can help me bring all this inside. You take the flowers, and if you're lucky I'll give you some dates for your trouble."

Oh, there was nothing so fine as a date. Maybe a fresh apple...apple pie. Vinegar apple relish. Apple butter. Apple sauce. On the other hand, there was date cake, topped with a creamy and buttery caramel sauce, warmed in the oven, eaten with a mug of tea in the dark of winter solstice...

His arms full, Rafi followed Mother Rahel into the temple. The foyer doors were open, leaving him surprised to find the washing troths empty and over turned. Didn't matter anyway, he wasn't staying.The Gods did not require his daily devotion - at least not in the temple. 

"In here," she said, opening the narrow door that led into the temple proper. 

Made of wood, the temple was a single storey, round, with a roof of straw overlapped by strips of bark. The sacred hearth in the middle of the temple was burning fiercely even though the moon window at the peak of the roof was closed, making for a close and smokey room. Spears of light came in through the widely spaced boards of the walls, and in spite of the fire and the early heat of late spring, the temple was cool. Late spring was late spring, there was never any telling if one day would be snow or the next a heatwave. Rafi had never been in the temple during the day when there wasn't a ceremony, and it was strange to see it nearly empty of people.

"This way," said Rahel, stepping on the round stones that made the path around the fire. 

Rafi hoped he wasn't offending any Gods as he stepped exactly where Mother Rahel did. Mother Rahel knew him, though, and he figured if it was all right with her, it would be all right with the Gods as well. So intent was he upon taking her exact route, including the placement of his feet, that he didn't see the other Women until he nearly blundered in to one. "Sorry," he said, blinking in surprise, for she - and the other three Women next to her, were all shrouded in pale grey from head to foot. He eyed them, trying to figure out who they were, but it was impossible, they all looked the same.

"Rafiq of the People," said Mother Rahel, standing next to the fire with a calm expression on her face, pouring dust from a small leather bag onto her hand. "Tonight is your night. Be one with the Gods. Let them claim you and mark you as their own."

And then she blew the dust into his face.

Rafi startled back, barely able to hold on to the flowers he was holding and stupidly wanting to tell her she was wrong, it was still only the day, that the sun was still high in the sky. The dust glittered in the low light, and the smell was strong and spicy, hot like pepper, sweet like ambergris. It made him want to sneeze when he inhaled, yet the feeling passed a moment later. He lost his balance and wavered on his feet, only to feel supporting hands at his elbows a second later.

Although he didn't _know_ what was happening, he did know _what_ was happening, and he found it almost unbelievable. His time had come: he would emerge from the temple as a Man, as his father had before him, and his grandfather, his brothers, and all the Men he knew. As his mothers and grandmothers had become Women, and as one day, would his sister. No one spoke of what happened on their night, but all came out stupefied, as if the world had been wrought anew. 

Mother Rahel bent down and picked up a bowl Rafi hadn't noticed, took a handful of whatever was inside of it and threw that on the fire, too, sending the flames blazing above her head and sparks shooting towards the ceiling.

Though he wanted to ask what was going on, Rafi found he couldn't move. Oh, he could blink, and shift his weight from foot to foot, that was all. The flowers were removed from his arms and then, then there were hands on his person, undoing his clothing, pulling his shirt off of his shoulders and his trousers down his legs. Even with the fire going, making him hot on one side and cold on the other, he felt his face heat with embarrassment. Unlike Kryn and Seml and Oremos, he had no desire to be even semi naked in front of others, never mind Women. Sure, having his shirt off in front of his little sister or his mother was fine, they didn't care what he looked like, but the rest of the village...no, thank you. Besides, Kryn and Seml and Oremos were Men, now. They were grown and could have relations with whomever they wanted. Sure, Kryn hadn't waited to meet the Gods, but he had a baby son, so no one cared. Creating new life was acceptable to the Gods.

Rafi shivered when warm water first dripped, then cascaded down his back. This was followed by water over his head, making him splutter, and then more water was tipped over his chest. The water was flower scented, pale apple blossom petals sticking to his skin before they were plucked off by the Women. One of them held a shallow silver basin filled with liquid, and the two others dipped both hands into it and began to touch him.

Oil, he was being coated with sweet oil, cool at first, rapidly warming as the Women began to massage it into his skin. They started with his shoulders, and it wasn't until they reached his wrists that he realized, much to his shame, that their touch was having an effect. That...that was...he looked at Mother Rahel, apologizing as best he could without using any words. He was shocked to find her staring at him, licking her lips. Rafi bit his lip - oh, the paralysis was wearing off! Not soon enough, in his opinion.

By the time the Women reached his waist, and it seemed to him that their touch had slowed, Rafi was panting a little. Every now and again he would take a deep breath, trying to slow his pounding heart and his racing pulse. It was no use. He whimpered when he was oiled between his buttocks, when his balls were fondled, when one of them gave his prick a single, long pull. 

"Drink," Mother Rahel commanded, holding a silver cup to his lips.

How she had moved without his noticing? He berated himself for being stupid. She could have clubbed him over the head with a rock and he wouldn't have minded, so long as the Women kept doing what they were doing.

He drank.

A cold tea of spearmint, acidic hibiscus, bright rosehip, sweet bee balm, honey. There was an aftertaste, too, licorice or vanilla, something ever so slightly medicinal. It wasn't bad, simply unexpected. Mother Rahel stepped closer to him, so close he could feel the heat of her body along his right side. She was the same height as he was, but their people were tall, and it did not make him uneasy. 

"We've been watching you, Rafiq, and speaking to your mothers," she spoke softly, her warm breath washing his ear and sending chills down his spine. "You know not your strength, nor do you see the covetous looks the women give you, and for that, we are grateful."

Grateful?

"You use not your strength against us, nor your voice, which is low and rough. You will be a prince among men, a man desired by all who see you. Spread your seed, Rafiq of the People, and blossom among the Women of the world."

Once again, Rafi shivered. There it was, permission to do what he had so wanted to do for so long, what he quite frankly had ached to do for some seasons.

Mother Rahel backed into the fire, staring straight into his eyes. Horrified, he reached out to grab her back, to be grabbed in turn and pulled in as well. 

Pulled off balance, Rafi closed his eyes and opened his mouth to scream, putting his hands out to catch himself, only to keep on falling and falling and falling, the flames somehow not burning him at all. He gasped -

When Rafi opened his eyes again, he was lying on a stone plinth. He was still naked, though covered by a very light and very small fawn-colored towel. Sitting up slowly, he looked around: he was in a room made of rough hewn stone. Not a cave, for the ceiling was smooth and glowed like the moon itself. The wall facing him had a void in it, a black, door shaped void. Blooming creeper vines with tiny pink and purple flowers hung from the walls, partially obscuring the top of the void. 

Rafi looked side to side, twisting around to see if Mother Rahel was there, too, but she was nowhere to be found. Besides the plinth, himself, and the vines, the room was empty and there was no way out apart from the void. Taking a deep breath, he hopped off the plinth, wrapping the towel around his waist. This was his challenge, just as the stories said. He was going to have to go through the door, enter the void. He would trust Mother Rahel - after all, he wasn't burned by falling in the fire, was he? 

Blowing out his breath, he approached the void, peered around the edges in case he could actually see something. All right, there was nothing for it but to go. 

Cautiously sticking first his hand into the void, when nothing happened, he gingerly stepped forward. Maybe the Gods wouldn't like what he was doing, maybe they wanted a person who went forth without seeing what was to be seen, yet he wasn't made that way. Of course he'd been ridiculed all his life for his prudence. Not for him the dive into unknown lakes, the crossing of winter swollen streams. He shared the meat he killed amongst the mothers first, then the children before he ate any himself. Maybe he wasn't the fastest hunter, maybe he didn't care to kill everything in sight for the sake of being hailed the hero. He took what he needed and he was happy to do so. The Gods hadn't seen fit to punish him thus far.

As soon as he fully stepped into the void, it felt like he was in a canoe without paddle. He could only stand and be buffeted by warm winds across his face, hearing voices first on the left, then on the right, before and behind. Was he floating? He was upright...he was sure of that. And the towel was still on. For all that he felt, he could see nothing apart from blackness. The sensation of movement became familiar enough for him to blink in surprise when it stopped. 

He was in a grove of trees. The air was warm and sweet, redolent with green life. Birds sang overhead, insects hummed, the very quality of light itself was golden, like a summer's sunset. The breeze shifted and through the waving leaves on the trees, he saw there was one more moon in the sky than normal.

Huh.

Rafi heard a noise and glanced over his shoulder, was shocked to see a Man and a Woman looking back at him. The Man stood at the Woman's shoulder, while the Woman was seated on a rock throne. The Man was massive, at least half again Rafi's height, and wore a fur wrap around his waist, strapped leather boots to his knees, leather gauntlets at his wrists. In addition to his height, he was heavily muscled, though not like the wrestlers Rafi had seen that one time he had gone with Vekis to the town where the three rivers met. The Man leaned on a massive sword, and though he made no move towards Rafi, the sword made Rafi uneasy.

The Woman, the Woman was white skinned and fleshy and wore very, very little. He still could see the image in his mind's eye: like the man, she was well muscled, with a healthy layer of fat atop that. Her very large breasts had been bare, the nipples dark rosy brown. She had yellow hair tied back from her forehead with a jewelled leather strap, armlets of jewelled leather, too. She stood and that's when he realized she was a giantess. Funny, he's always thought of the Gods as being human-sized. Which was of course ridiculous, of course they wouldn't be anything like humans. But then she began to shrink as she approached him, until out of the corner of his eye he saw that she was a normal size for a Woman of his people. Rafi blushed and stared at the floor. The mothers would have his head if he looked at any of the village Women like that. 

"Do you know who we are?" asked the Woman.

Rafi could see her feet uncross, then they were coming close. "Gods, miss."

Hanoe. God of War and Pestilence whose ancient symbols were screaming faces cut into stone, and talismans of copper-scented bloodstone.

Hani. Goddess of Lust and Rapine. 

Hanoe walked behind Rafi and he closed his eyes, because clearly he was not worthy of their attention. He could only hope the killing blow would be quick.

"I see you, little man. Puny human to have come so far without even a warhorse at his side. Think you that wise?" said Hani.

At first Rafi was distracted by her voice, which started out low and melodious, yet like her skin, soon changed. It squealed, growled, purred.

"I come to you bare of any distractions," Rafi murmured. Would it be enough to keep him alive?

"I like him."

Unlike his sister, Hanoe's voice was quiet, and reminded Rafi of things half-seen in the dark, of whispers and sly glances. As he wasn't yet dead, Rafi opened his eyes to peek up at Hani. Her skin began to turn dusky, then darker than night. Her hair went black, red, tan, straight, braided and long, fuzzy and short. Rafi couldn't help it, he stared openly at her. The Goddess returned to her original form and smiled at him, her mouth full of white teeth sharpened to points. Rafi hastily looked down at the mossy ground again.

One corner of Hani's mouth curled up. She put her hands on her hips, neatly framing her Woman's secret. Rafi's gaze was drawn to the golden brown triangle between her legs. He'd overheard Men talking about it, of course, laughing and joking about who could fill it best, who could make a Woman scream loudest, who was best in bed. Of course they always shut up when boys like him came around. Rafi had seen the winks, though, when the Men thought he wasn't looking. Sly comments they thought he wouldn't understand.

To his utter horror, he realized the towel was beginning to rise, and he was the cause. Heat flooded his face as once again shame overwhelmed him. Unlike previous times this had happened, he was not able to turn away and seek privacy. He stood there, miserable and praying he wasn't giving offense, even though he stood in front of the Goddess of Lust and Rapine.

"Oh, the boy wants you, Hani," commented Hanoe, moving around Rafi to embrace his sister from behind. He cupped her breasts, his hands barely able to contain the taught flesh. Hanoe grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes. He rolled her nipples and she moaned and Rafi licked his lips. 

"Shall I let him have you?" Hanoe asked, reaching between her legs and fondling her there, too.

"As if you could make me do anything I didn't want to do," she replied, pushing his hands and then him away.

Rafi quietly tried to become invisible. When the Twins fought with one another there was starvation, lands laid to waste, and entire peoples wiped off the face of the earth.

"As you will," said Hanoe, backing up a few steps to sit on her throne. 

Hani cocked her head to one side, looking over Rafi from head to foot. "Know what you do here, boy?"

"No, gracious one."

"Good. Kneel."

He did, self-consciously, because the towel was on the verge of falling off and he would die of embarrassment if that happened in front of the Gods. 

Hani came close, closer still, so close all he could see in front of him was her sex. She smelled of musk and salt. 

"Open your mouth," called Hanoe."and worship your Goddess."

Rafi wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to do, but he leaned forward nonetheless and kissed first her right thigh, and then her left. He remembered coming across Mieba and Tullin on his way to the frog pond and stopping dead in his tracks. They were by the big oak, Mieba draped against Tullin while he leaned against the tree. They were oblivious to him standing there, watching, and remained so even after he passed them, making no effort to be quiet on the leaf-littered path. There had to be something in what they were doing to one another, and Rafi decided to try and replicate it on Hani. He was short on the finer details, but he would learn as he went.

Hair tickled his chin. He glanced up to find her staring back at him, which is when he realized her eyes were not brown but a deep, deep orange, slitted black, like a lynx. She was a predator and he was her prey, as was right.

Rafi pressed his mouth to the slit underneath the hair. The slit parted easily. There was no discernible flavor apart from slight saltiness, and in a flash he suddenly understood some of the jokes he had heard. This would be the bud, and these would be the petals that covered it, and the nectar that flowed from within, and when he polished the bud with his tongue Hani sighed and put her hand on his head. 

His face was wet and his jaw sore, but Rafi didn't dare stop. Yes, his knees were aching and his neck was aching and just when he thought about sitting back a little, she set her hand on his shoulder and pushed him hard. He fell onto his side, legs twisted underneath. Before he had a chance to straighten them out, however, she set her foot to his shoulder and rolled him onto his back.

"Spread your arms and _don't move."_

Rafi nodded, mostly because he was incapable of talking. She walked away, leaving him to stare up at the leafy canopy above, where the first few stars were beginning to shine. This wasn't his world, he understood that, yet it felt like his world, or a world he could live in, maybe. Sometimes people didn't come back from their meetings with the Gods, not as themselves, anyway. The stars were blotted out upon her return, holding a metal cock in her hands. 

What…?

The metal was silver filigree and shaped like an erect cock. It was hinged, and cold when she closed it around him. Though he couldn't see what was happening, something also went around his balls, putting an odd pressure behind them. The cage was uncomfortable at first, though it became bearable as it warmed. 

"Don't move," Hani repeated, sitting astride his belly to run her hands up and down his chest. She slowly dragged her nails over his nipples, leaving him gasping. He squirmed and was rewarded with a casual slap. "Already willing to ignore the rules?"

"Maybe not such a good choice after all," came Hanoe's voice over Hani's shoulder.

"No, you know I like an independent thinker," she said, putting her hands firmly over Rafi's wrists. "Keep still, else I'll give you to my brother instead."

Rafi nodded, still shocked from the slap.

Keeping her weight on his wrists, she knee-walked up his body until she was straddling his face, leaving a wet spot on his stomach. "Now, finish what you started."

Thankfully, he could rest against the ground while she controlled the pace. The meaning behind the abstract designs of her sacred sigils became clear when he drew them with his tongue, making her cry out with increasing ferocity. Just as he was relaxing into it, getting used to her and what she did and didn't like, she began to bear down on his face. She gave no warning, no time for him to catch his breath. He was growing dizzy from the lack of air when her movements became erratic. She stiffened, jerking as he drew one last sigil with a tongue he could barely move. 

"Well done, man, well done," said Hanoe. "You've made her come without blood being shed."

Rafi's tongue was thick in his mouth. He couldn't have replied to Hanoe even had he wanted to. He lay there, feeling his pulse pound, abruptly aware of the pain in his wrists for not only had she put her weight on them, she had a grip like iron. 

Hani sat up, then scooted down to impale herself upon his prick. Then it was his turn to cry out, the sudden, burning heat of her almost more than he could bear. She swiveled her hips and moaned, making him scrabble at the moss. He had never felt anything like this before, never. If he could do this every day and every night for the rest of his life, he would - oh Gods yes! The cage - the cage was going to kill him first. "P-please..." he stammered, his legs twitching with the need to thrust up into her body, to make her breasts bounce even more, to make her scream like that again.

"Louder," she said clearly, looking down at him and slowing up a little.

"Please, I want - "

She snorted. "Want? You want what I want, little man."

"The cage, please -"

Hani began to rock her hips faster. She tossed her hair from one side to the other, rubbed her breasts and then trailed them down her stomach to part the hair and, lifting up a bit, showed him just where he was inside of her. 

"Yes, yes," he babbled, because something was happening to him, he was Avelinos to her Zarinthel, Ui to Do Finnim, oh Gods what was going on?

Rafi broke into a sweat, because a layer of fire surrounded his cock. He grimaced with anticipated pain, but already the burning sensation was beginning to fade, and sweetness was taking its place. A grown burst out of him, and then another. The pressure behind his balls grew and grew, and Hani was _somehow stroking him!_. He looked down and yes, he was still inside of her, she wasn't touching him with her hands. He looked up at her, incredulous, and she pealed into laughter.

"I make you strong, little man!" she cried, her movements getting rougher. She threw her hands over her head and howled. "This is my claim! He is mine forever and more!"

And Rafi's vision went white. He turned inside out, balls tight against his body, pleasure ramping through his pelvis and rocketing out through his cock like a lightning strike. Silently he curled up, up enough for the brush of her breasts against him. That was it. He clasped her tightly, dimly aware that there would be consequences for his actions, and not caring one little bit. Finally he sucked in a breath, inhaled their comingled musk and came again, agonizingly, being so sensitive from the first.

When Rafi opened his eyes, he was shocked to find he was still alive. Hani was a warm weight on his lap, solid and true. Under his fingers her midnight skin was soft and satiny, even the ridges of her unseen sigils were not unpleasant. 

"Your name, little man?" she asked, looping her arms around his neck.

"Rafiq. But everyone calls me Rafi," he said. A second later he cringed; who was he to be so bold with a Goddess?

"You've done well. Not many would be so forward as to touch my twin," said Hanoe, still lounging on Hani's throne.

Hani rolled her eyes. "Shall I say the same, dear one?"

Over her shoulder - had she gotten smaller once more? - Rafi saw Hanoe snort and look away. To say the moment was surreal; a Goddess sitting on him, a God nearby, on a strange world in which they were his only connection - was an understatement. Rafi wanted to pull away, he wanted to go over what had just happened and then somehow make it happen again…maybe with someone different, though.

He slipped out of her and she made the tiniest sound. Annoyance, he thought, and leaned back on his hands. 

She gave him another smile, close-mouthed this time, her eyes heavy lidded, then smoothly stood up and sauntered away. When Rafi looked down - after taking the time to appreciate her golden-skinned backside - he fell back onto one elbow.

The cage was gone. His cock, flaccid though it was, looked bigger, more robust. While he certainly had compared himself to the others in the sauna, he had never thought of himself as lacking in any way. So...was the cage part of him now? 

"Yes," said Hanoe, his arms full of Hani, who was now sitting on _his_ lap, looking if not well fed, at least content. Her hair was dark red and curling around her shoulders. "War is coming, Rafiq of the People. We shall feed upon the blood and lust, and you shall be our instrument in doing so. The cage will keep you strong when otherwise you would fail, and with each woman you take, with each man you reap, you make us stronger. You're ours, forever and more."

Hani made a sign in the air. "Now sleep, and dream of blood and dread."

Exhaustion came upon him and he lay down on the ground, closing his eyes and falling into absolute darkness. 

 

~~~~O~~~~

"Come on!" 

Mieba was grinning, pulling him in to the ring of dancers as they circled the fire. Rafi pasted a smile onto his face and gallumphed around half-heartedly. His spirit was still tired from his time in the Temple. _He_ was still tired from his time in the Temple. He was grateful that the custom was not to speak of one's experiences with the Gods. Words could not capture his mix of feelings, for what he remembered was pleasure...and overwhelming fear. Little else came to mind.

After the third time around the fire he held his hands up and backed away. Looking around, he saw that everyone was busy with eating and drinking, celebrating the arrival of another Man - himself! - to the People. He could sleep with anyone he wanted to, and make a child. He could leave the Village of the Rising Moon and wander outside of the People, report back on what he saw, of the dangers of the outside world. He could refuse to hunt, or become Mother Rafiq and join Mother Rahel in serving the Temple.

What he wanted to do was sleep. A proper sleep, this time, one from which he would awaken refreshed instead of tired. Mother Rahel brought him cool draughts every morning, feeling his forehead and watching while he drank the whole mug down in one go. She made him chew bitter herbs, and advised him to spend as much time alone as he needed. Of them all, she alone seemed to understand he was...different. Not like the other who came back and were simple, no. 

"You've been knocked askew," she had said when he woke up in the Temple. "The Gods who've claimed you are jealous Gods, and you need time to adjust."

Mother Rahel had smiled as she spoke, but he could sense she was disturbed. That was all right, so was he, and he knew she didn't know what Gods had claimed him.

Rafi took himself up to the ridge behind the village and sat next to his tree, a grey and white barked heela. He loved its resinous odor, and how it calmed him when he was upset. Within a few minutes, he was joined by Mother Rahel's namesake, which after three days was no longer a surprise. Every single Woman of the village had come to talk to him, and not a few of the Men. Funny, how he hadn't realized that would happen.

"Are you well, Rafi?" she asked, leaning against another heela with her hands behind her back.

"Sure," he answered.

"It's strange, when you get back, isn't it?"

He glanced at her, then, because she was the first to acknowledge that the world turned upside down. Little Rahel smiled at him for along moment before glancing away. "Yeah."

"It can be disturbing. I had strange dreams for a long time, afterward. I still do, sometimes."

"I haven't had a dream yet."

She nodded. "You will."

Rafi looked down at the leaf he was shredding and voiced his fear. "I don't know if I want to."

"You won't have a choice," she said softly.

"Something's coming," he whispered. "Something bad."

"Then you've been chosen to guide us through it," she said confidently, as if saying it made it true. 

When he didn't immediately answer her back, she smiled, turned and headed back to the village, which had reached new levels of drunken hilarity, judging by the noise. Rafi smoothed out the shreds of leaf in his hand. "I hope you're right."

**Author's Note:**

> I came up really sick this week - I hope this story is coherent!
> 
> Hani: (if the imagees go away, go search for works by Frank Frazetta)
> 
> [](https://postimg.org/image/7qt7802p7/)  
> [free picture upload](https://postimage.io/)  
> [certificity.com](https://certificity.com)  
>  


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